Despair engulfed her at the horrid remembrance that the one particular Englishman she knew to be sympathique did not at all wish to marry her. Only her face was clear, frail and delicate, almost flower-like, with the sad haunting eyes ever watching his. “My dear, can you see in this light? I think I would like to get in. I deemed it more prudent to send him to the Dark House than to bring him here, in case of any search after him by his adoptive father—the carpenter Wood. She sat down awkwardly and helplessly on one of the little stools by her table and covered her face with her hands. ” Ennison shrugged his shoulders.
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